Page 55 of Kylie

I didn’t really believe that, but it gave me something to think about. I felt as though I was slowly going insane. Solitary confinement was a form of torture; of that much I was certain.

Besides wondering how hot it would get, I spent the rest of my time slowly going out of my mind. To keep the paranoia at bay, I’d started reliving memories. Closing my eyes, I would take myself back to those points in time when life was good. The day I met Travis, the day I met Gage. My first wedding day, my second—which was significantly better than wedding number one, although I had been in love with Travis at both of those ceremonies. I relived the births of all my children over and over, remembering how it felt to hold them for the first time. I even allowed myself to think about those moments when I worried because that was what a mother did. She worried.

I thought about the times I spent with my sister, hanging out with all the kids, laughing, joking. I tried only to think about the good times. It was that or wonder what every creak in the floor meant, or whether that was a tree branch brushing the window or something more sinister. With each passing day, it was getting more difficult to form coherent thoughts, to remember. I was beginning to think I was on the brink of a psychotic break.

Then again, I got the feeling that was Martin’s plan. He was going to follow through on his promise and let me die here. Whether it was from starvation or heatstroke, I expected to take my last breath in this room, chained to this floor, my mind flooded with chaos, wearing these filthy hospital scrubs. I hadn’t had a shower in…

The thought made tears fill my eyes, but I choked them back, refusing to cry. After all, this room had a red light in it, too, so I knew Martin was watching, and I refused to let that bastard see my fear or my pain if I could help it. He could go to hell.

A vehicle door slammed out front, and I stared at the door. It was a trained response as I anticipated seeing Martin. It had been several days since he’d made an appearance, but he was an egotistical son of a bitch. No way could he just give up. He would want to give me one more chance to do his bidding, and I was sure he had some cockamamie plan to get me to bend to his will. I only prayed he hadn’t gotten his hands on my kids. If he did, God help me, I would somehow peel myself off this fucking floor and kill him with my bare hands. I would…

I heard voices from somewhere in the house, but they were muted, indistinguishable. I couldn’t even tell if they were male or female.

Footsteps sounded a few minutes later, heading toward me.

The door opened, and Martin appeared. He was wearing one of his suits. It wasn’t cheap, but it wasn’t expensive either. Middle of the road, kind of like him. There was nothing spectacular about him. Not his brown hair or eyes, not his mediocre haircut. He took care of himself, health-wise, anyway, but it didn’t make him the least bit appealing.

“I see you’re still alive,” he said casually, as though he wasn’t dreaming about my death.

I stared at him, offering nothing. Since it was obvious he was determined to break me, it took effort to keep my reactions to myself.

“I come bearing gifts.” He produced a small green and white bottle and tossed it in my direction.

I watched as it rolled to a stop near my feet, the red label visible. It was a Boost protein shake.

“It’s cold.”

Damn him.

Before I realized what I was doing, I propped myself up on my elbow and reached for it. I didn’t want to do it, but my brain was in survival mode. I unscrewed the lid and sniffed before taking a sip. Then another.

I kept my eyes down, hating that Martin was watching me devour the damn thing like it was a gourmet meal.

“I’m also here to offer you an opportunity to shower.”

Goddammit.

The man clearly knew the one thing that might get a rise out of me. Before I could stop myself, my gaze snapped to his face.

He smiled. It was creepy.

“How long have you been here, Kylie?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. He knew good and damn well how long it had been. He had access to a calendar. I had archaic writing on the wall.

“Forty-eight days,” he said, answering his own question.

Well, there you have it. I was only a few days short on my tally marks. Forty-eight days.

“I figured you’d be excited to get clean. You are beginning to stink.”

I could see it in his eyes. He knew he was getting to me.

“I debated on coming here and giving you the opportunity. I wanted to let you suffer, but Allison believes it’s a good incentive.”

Allison. I hadn’t seen the woman since the day she brought me here. I’d thought about her plenty. My thoughts took me back to that hospital, to the days I was convinced she was attempting to help me without actually helping me. I was positive she had been trying to trigger my memories. Something worked, but I don’t know if she deserved credit for it or not. Maybe.

I focused on sipping the drink slowly. My stomach was cramping already. As much as my body needed the nutrients, it wasn’t going to help. Not only because I was too far gone, but because my stomach would likely expel it within minutes.